


never did i think that i would be caught in the way you got me

by uaevuon



Series: Legends Never Die (the omegaverse geass AU) [7]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Family, Immortality, LLYBB, M/M, Masturbation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, magical contract a la code geass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-07-16 12:10:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16085831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uaevuon/pseuds/uaevuon
Summary: “Yuuri,” Viktor whispered. He shook Yuuri by the shoulder to wake him and was startled by Yuuri’s limbs all reaching out at once, pulling him in octopus-style. “Yuuri, your heat. I need to go.”“Noooooooooooo,” Yuuri whined, clinging harder. His hips rolled, blessedly still encased in sweatpants, but Viktor could feel the slick wetness seeping through where his shirt rode up.





	never did i think that i would be caught in the way you got me

**Author's Note:**

> cw for implied past suicide attempts
> 
> this work is part of a series, and will not make any sense without having read the previous parts.

The scent of heat woke Viktor before it did Yuuri, early in the morning when the crescent moon was high and the sun had not yet risen. It was coming in fast, Yuuri’s scent glands already spilling pheromones, his skin flushed in the moonlight and shining with sweat. 

“Yuuri,” Viktor whispered. He shook Yuuri by the shoulder to wake him and was startled by Yuuri’s limbs all reaching out at once, pulling him in octopus-style. “Yuuri, your heat. I need to go.”

“ _Noooooooooooo_ ,” Yuuri whined, clinging harder. His hips rolled, blessedly still encased in sweatpants, but Viktor could feel the slick wetness seeping through where his shirt rode up. 

“Yuuri.” Viktor pushed Yuuri back; Yuuri’s whines broke his heart, but he kept pushing, guided by his promise to Yuuri. He had to leave, no matter how hard it was. 

Viktor finally extracted himself, and Yuuri followed him to the door, bleary and needy. Viktor stopped him at the threshold, holding him back with a hand pressed to the middle of Yuuri’s chest. He could feel the rapid pace of Yuuri’s heart. 

“Remember to close the second door,” Viktor said. 

Yuuri nodded, his face openly sad at having to watch Viktor leave him. “You’ll be in the next room?”

“Of course.”

“I didn’t get to show you my Salchow. I worked hard on it.”

“You can show me after. You always get better after a heat, remember?”

“Yeah. Maybe I’ll start practicing the flip for real.” Yuuri yawned widely, still sleepy despite the heat thrumming under his skin. “You— you should go.”

“I should.”

“I want you to stay.”

“I want to stay too. But I have to go.” Viktor had to be the strong one this time. He pushed Yuuri back, gently, with just his fingertips. “You’ll be okay. You’ve had plenty of heats before.”

Yuuri nodded. His fingers found the heavy heat door, and without another word, he began to pull it out. Viktor pulled the outer door at the same time, feeling cold as the doors hissed shut. 

Viktor stood there for a moment, letting the painful finality of it sink in. Then he sprinted the ten feet to his own room, throwing the _shoji_ open and closed and dropping down onto the futon Yuuri had left out for him. There was a bit of nest half-built around it, so Viktor added what he could find; the clothes off his body, an extra blanket in the closet. He unearthed a couple of his underwear from beneath the pillow; they were crusty with dried cum and smelled like heaven, so he put them back, intending to revel in Yuuri’s scent as much as he could while they were separated. 

The wall between their rooms was mostly scentproof, but not soundproof. Viktor could hear Yuuri getting back into bed, could hear his frustrated huff as he shucked his clothes and tucked them into the nest. Viktor wondered if he should have left his own clothes behind, but it was too late now; besides, Yuuri was lucky enough to have a nest already soaked with Viktor’s heat scent, stale as it may be two days later. 

Viktor rolled toward the wall, his hands gripping the nest and feet kicking and scrabbling at it, wrestling with the piled fabric like a cat. It was frustrating, being separated from Yuuri so soon after his heat. As much as he hated it, he knew it was necessary. In his day, some alphas still felt a sense of personal obligation to help omegas in heat; certainly it was better this way, with the emphasis on communication before action. It still felt awful, knowing that it was what they both wanted, but in all honesty, neither was ready for. 

He scrambled out of the nest again and threw open the drawers, searching for his lonely little vibrator, pink and shaped like a cartoonish rabbit head. Viktor would need it, once Yuuri got going. He wondered if the charging port would work fast enough to keep up with him, or if the little bunny could even handle what was about to become two to three days of near constant use.

Viktor flopped back down on the futon and plugged the vibrator's charger into the nearest wall outlet, an awkwardly bulky Europe-to-Japan converter stuck in between. He chewed his bottom lip and tugged the nest closer around him, dislodging some of Yuuri's careful structure to make it cozier.

He was excited, in a way Viktor so rarely had been for the last century. In fact he was positively giddy with it, his body thrumming with anticipation as he strained to hear the soft sounds of Yuuri rolling around in the next room, trying to find a comfortable position in which to get himself off. Viktor shifted as well, until he could get his hand between his legs without cramping. He waited there, fingers lightly playing with his labia, his vibrator for now waiting on the charger. He was still sensitive from all the knot toys, his cunt not used to the stretch, so he didn't press in yet. Not yet, not until the slick was pouring from him like a river. Not until Yuuri was screaming his name, and Viktor so badly wanted him to. He wanted to hear it, he wanted to hear Yuuri call for him as he had done, to hear all his desires returned.

And when Yuuri was coming more times than he could count, bottoming out on silicone knots Viktor couldn't even dream of, oh, Viktor could only imagine what that would do to him, how hot that would get him.

He could hear it now; the muffled, wet noises of fingers in Yuuri's cunt, and working slick up and down Yuuri's shaft. Viktor wanted those fingers to be his; wanted to be the one touching Yuuri, stroking him; wanted his cock to penetrate Yuuri, his cunt to consume Yuuri. He wanted to fuck. He wanted Yuuri. Desire was Viktor's life these days; linking contracts to wishes and hoping against hope that one day he might get his. But this kind of desire, all-consuming lust and, perhaps, love, was so much more than Viktor had ever signed up for.

He realized in that moment that he didn't want it to end. For a man who'd been searching desperately for the end, who'd been trying his hardest to reach it, who'd jumped from every height and stood in every fire only to walk away unscathed, to suddenly turn away from his own end was terrifying. What else was there to look forward to, if not the void?

There was love, and Yuuri — and a contract eternal.

\---

“Viktor… Viktor…”

Yuuri didn't have to hold back. For the first time in his life, he didn't have to bite a towel and stuff his crush back down his throat. He had Viktor next door, wanting him back, and Yuuri denied himself no longer. He moaned Viktor's name aloud as he stretched himself around a knot, tugging hard at his own limp, oversensitive cock, the drips of his milked-out cum covering stains left behind by Viktor. Yuuri's moans muffled as he turned his face into the soft duvet, this dark spot that had propped up Viktor's hips and smelled so strongly it was the closest thing Yuuri had to burying his face in Viktor's cunt short of busting through the wall and spreading Viktor's legs himself.

And oh, did he want to. He wanted to badly to see the shock on Viktor's face as Yuuri showed the full brunt of his need, the adrenaline strength of a thousand alphas no match for him as he took Viktor hard and fast and raw and aching.

Yuuri pushed down on his lower abdomen, where the head of the dildo currently filling him distended his belly. Like a real alpha cock, knotting him tight and secure, the only thing Yuuri ever craved of them.

He wondered if, or when, he took a heat with Viktor, would he want to use the toys? Would he need to? He always had. No matter how well-endowed his partners, no beta or omega cock could fill him like a knot, even their fists the wrong shape to please Yuuri. Would Viktor let him? Would Viktor be able to satisfy him without?

Yuuri decided, brain lust-addled but determined, that he would try his very best to make it work.

For now, the only thing he had to make work was these knots, as deep inside him as they would go. His cunt stretched tight, swollen red and wet, twitching around the base of the knot, a knot which had last been inside Viktor. His cock leaked clear fluid onto the blanket beneath him, and rested flaccid but throbbing on the textured silicone balls that sat beneath him. Staying hard during a heat was almost impossible, with all his body's efforts going to the fertile parts of his body rather than the virile. Still, Yuuri stroked his cock, gently as he could, between his index and middle fingers, trying to ease it back to hardness. Something about it just felt right, coming while knotted with his rock-hard cock in the vice grip of his palm. 

Knowing Viktor was listening felt even more right. 

"V-Viktor…" 

I love you, he wanted to say; I need you, he wanted to scream. He wanted Viktor's wet heat clamped around him while he bounced on this locked-in knot; he wanted Viktor whimpering in his arms, rendered speechless but for Yuuri's name, pleasure and Yuuri the only things he knew. 

“Viktor!”

And Yuuri was allowed to want it now. No more shame about getting hot for a dead man, getting hot for his disinterested coach. Viktor wanted him too, at least for now. 

“Want you. Need you.”

When he was ready to make his desires, his fantasies, into reality, he would fuck Viktor so hard, so well, so thoroughly, that he would never forget, no matter how long he lived. He would be a bright spot of heat and adoration in Viktor's memory, forever; one to make Viktor look back on him, millions of years from now. He might forget Yuuri's face, his name, his skating; but he would never be able to forget Yuuri's love. 

Quiet as a mouse, so Viktor wouldn't hear, he whispered, “Love you.”

\---

Yuuri's heat was not only early, but very short, as if his body sensed that it had missed its window to match up to its chosen mate. After only a day and a half, it ended, allowing Yuuri to pass into a deep, uninterrupted sleep and recover his energy. 

While he slept, Viktor stepped out; he let himself into Ice Castle after a cleansing shower, hoping to distract himself while he waited for Yuuri to open up his room to Viktor. 

The easiest thing to do would be to let out his feelings, his tension, his sexual frustration by running through Yuuri's Eros choreography, but then again that would probably just make Viktor more frustrated. The lingering libido of his post-heat was almost gone, only a low thrum in his belly that demanded moremoremore, and if he fed it, it would grow; but he could ignore it if he paid it no mind. So he didn't; instead, he chose another arrangement of the _On Love:_ melody, one that focused on platonic and familial love, purely non-sexual. It was hard to focus on those lustless feelings when his body still sang the song of YuuriYuurineedYuuriwantYuuriloveYuurifuckYuuri, but he got most of the choreography down while thinking of Yuuri's family, the way the Katsukis had taken him in as one of their own almost from the very start, seeming to know somehow who and what he was, never questioning that he was alive, nor his intentions toward Yuuri. They trusted him implicitly, they loved him wholeheartedly. 

He thought of a private moment, one he likely wasn't meant to see, when he'd walked in on Toshiya and Hiroko in front of the small family shrine, looking through their unofficial family registry, kept in a book smaller than Viktor's palm. The booklet looked old, its cover worn and papers yellowed; Viktor wondered how many generations it had been passed down, eldest children inheriting the original as the younger made copies. 

“We put Vicchan in the last spot,” Toshiya said. 

Hiroko's head bobbed in a nod. “We'll need to give Yuuri and Vic-chan a new page.” Viktor's heart skipped a beat; he heard the almost imperceptible difference in the way Hiroko referred to him, the slightest pause that separated Viktor the human and Vicchan the dog. 

“Already planning ahead?” Toshiya asked, his voice laced with amusement. 

“You know he won't let that boy go.” Hiroko sounded proud, as if she knew from experience. Viktor supposed she did; Yuuri did take after his mother quite a lot, after all. 

“Mm.” Toshiya leaned to the side, resting his head on top of Hiroko's. “I hope so. He's stubborn, but you know he doesn't believe he deserves things that make him happy. I always wonder which part of him will win.”

“I was talking about Vic-chan.”

Toshiya laughed then, full-bellied and delighted. “Now isn't that the truth!”

Viktor thought of Hiroko remembering all his favorite foods, and always seeming to know, even when he was out all day, exactly what he'd want when he came home. He thought of Toshiya, always leaving a cushion out for Viktor to join him at the old television, explaining the rules of three-dimensional soccer as many times as it took to make sense. He thought of Mari, who whacked him on the head with a feather duster when he first called her _neechan_ , then brought him tea, hiding a pleased smile behind her usual teasing. He thought of Yuuko and Takeshi, presenting him a copy of the Ice Castle keys on the same ring as the key to their own home, and the triplets, dragging him around the ice, demanding private demonstrations of half-remembered programs. He thought of Yuuri, standing off to the side, looking on with adoration clear in his eyes. 

Choreographing to _Storge_ was hard, at first, and then it was so easy, he almost didn't notice the time pass. 

Part of Viktor wished he still had the memories of his own family. The faces of his mothers flitted through his mind. Mama, Mum, Maman; each had a memory or two that stuck, but Viktor recognized the hole where they'd been, the emptiness that grew with the longer he lived. Could he ever recover his memories of them? Of his sister? Of his coach, his rinkmates? He knew, in some way, that he had cared for each of them. His mothers and sister had loved him dearly, and he'd loved them in return. His coach had looked after him; his rinkmates considered him a friend, albeit one who was often distant. The feelings of loneliness that plagued Viktor's memories, however, hinted that even then, he'd built a wall around himself, one that not even those dearest to him could fully break through. 

He owed it to each of those people to appreciate what he had now. To learn from the mistakes he barely remembered making. Viktor practiced this simple yet expressive choreography for them, as much as for the family he'd acquired so recently, through Yuuri. 

There was no use having regrets. Not now, so far away in time, when he couldn't fix his mistakes. Perhaps, had Viktor not taken on immortality, he might have learned to appreciate the love around him. Perhaps if he'd remembered them earlier, remembered the love they showed him instead of sinking into a blank loneliness upon his death and subsequent half-life, he'd have gone back and fixed what he'd broken. He didn't even remember what it was that made him come to this decision, and it was a decision after all, it must be, to take on the code of immortality. Perhaps that same crushing loneliness that plagued Viktor every time he thought of the past. Perhaps he wanted more; a new start. Perhaps he simply hadn't known what to expect. But regardless, no regrets. There was only now, and what he could do to honor those who touched him in the past, as well as those who loved him today. 

\---

Yuuri’s door was cracked open when Viktor returned. 

Viktor knocked gently on the frame, a quiet “Yuuri?” whispered into the crack. 

A grunt greeted Viktor. 

“Can I come in?”

Yuuri made that little half-syllable noise that passed for a sleepy “yes”; Viktor slid open the door, then shut it behind him. The window was thrown open. The bedroom was warm, thickly scented even with the breeze carrying it slowly out. Viktor stood by the door for a moment, breathing it in, the crossed the room. He got down on his knees next to Yuuri’s bed, staring at the back of his head and a bare, pink shoulder where they peeked out from the nest. The thick top blanket was stained worse than Viktor remembered, and piled messily atop Yuuri. Yuuri lifted it, just slightly, not even enough to create an opening, but Viktor immediately stripped and climbed in behind him. 

“Mm. It’s warm in here.”

“I’m cold,” Yuuri said, his voice small. He scooted back until his back was pressed against Viktor’s chest, nearly pushing him off the tiny bed. “Hold me.”

“O-okay. Can you move up so I don’t fall off?”

Yuuri made a frustrated noise, but moved back towards the wall, and Viktor came in close, spooning him. 

“You smell good,” Viktor said. 

“Mmmyoutoo.” Yuuri yawned, and Viktor melted against him at the cuteness of the squeak he let out. 

“You can sleep more if you need.” 

Yuuri shook his head. “Don’t wanna. Daytime.” 

Viktor couldn’t help but laugh at Yuuri’s childish petulance. It was so different from the Yuuri he was used to seeing post-heat, the determined, energetic omega ready to take on the world and the entire repertoire of skating jumps he could barely land otherwise. And yet so similar; he was just as stubborn. 

“Shall I sing you a lullaby?” Viktor asked. He watched the tip of Yuuri’s ear turn pink, and then Yuuri’s head jerked in a few quick nods. “Hmm, which one should I choose? Ah, I know. _Fly me to the moon, let me play among the stars_ …”

Yuuri giggled, but didn’t interrupt. 

“ _Let me see what spring is like on Jupiter and Mars_ ,” Viktor continued. He moved in closer, held Yuuri tighter, until his lips brushed Yuuri’s flushed ear. “ _In other words, hold my hand. In other words, baby, kiss me—_ ”

Yuuri did interrupt then; he slowly turned over and pushed Viktor down into the nest; a familiar position. His lips descended on Viktor’s, moving slowly, lazily, but no less passionately for his sleepiness. 

“Mmm,” Viktor hummed as their tongues touched and he could taste Yuuri, mint toothpaste and sodium-rich citrus sports drink and all. Yuuri echoed him with a soft moan, his fingers twining in Viktor’s soft hair.

Yuuri noticed Viktor’s cock swelling against his thigh before Viktor himself did. After a hazy moment of heated desire swooping through him and overturning all his internal organs, Yuuri reluctantly pulled away, licking his lips. 

“We shouldn’t,” Yuuri said.

With Viktor staring up at him like that, all pink-cheeked and red-lipped, his eyes wide and pupils blown out, his hair fanning out around his head like a halo, his nipples peaked and still swollen from his heat, it was all Yuuri could do not to bite his tongue and dive back in. 

“Sorry.” Yuuri dropped down, faceplanting in the pillow beside Viktor’s head. Viktor let out a little _oof!_ as Yuuri crushed him a bit, but his arms came around Yuuri’s back anyway, his hands carefully arranged no lower than Yuuri’s waist. “That song is so old.”

“Well, I am a duodecagenarian.” 

Yuuri snorted into the space between Viktor’s shoulder and the pillow. “That song is even older than you.”

“It’s a nice song!” 

Yuuri could hear Viktor’s pout, and it only made him laugh more. “It is. It’s very sweet. And your voice isn’t too bad.”

“Really? Maybe I could become a musician. Viktor Nikiforov, immortal Frank Sinatra impersonator.” 

**Author's Note:**

> please subscribe to the series for updates!


End file.
